


Forgetting Mother's Day

by pfieffer



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Child Abuse, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 22:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13533747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pfieffer/pseuds/pfieffer
Summary: Carlos forgot Mother's Day once. He'll never do it again.





	Forgetting Mother's Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mess (much like my life atm), more like a stream of consciousness. I apologize for spelling errors and the like.

Everything in his world can come crashing down in a short amount of time. It had taken minutes for his mother to get mad. But this time, it took two days for things to go from worse, to he was sure he would see the next day. Cruella could be ruthless when she wanted to be.

Carlos wasn’t the best at keeping track of dates, not if they weren’t laid out visually before him, and since calendars on the isle tended to be a year behind, that was not an easy thing to do. Dates were not easy; he knew the ones he had to remember, like his mother’s birthday, the days Hanukkah (since his mother didn’t celebrate the other holidays— not that he’s bitter about that). He is bitter about it, but he’s bitter about many things, the list is rather extensive, so focussing on the one thing at this point in time seemed trivial. He also remembered his birthday. The last was less important, and he didn’t get gifts or anything he just tried to spend the day in peace, which meant finishing chores as early as possible, and staying away from his mother, and making sure she was in a good mood. It was like a full-time job to be able to give himself a good day on his birthday.

So it was two days before mothers day, and with a clear mind and head that is easy for him to remember, especially without visually seeing the days and weeks laid out before him. So this day was starting out like any other, though Cruella was picking at him more than others. It wasn’t that much more, but it was enough to be annoying, because she wouldn’t go all the way with her normal abuse. 

Now when she did things halfway Carlos got brave. He did not like things being done halfway, after all she never put up with it. so he wasn’t going to. So this day in particular as he was scrubbing the floors, a true cinderella moment, luckily his own spawn of Lucifer actually liked him— and wasn’t allowed in the house. He started humming, he started humming a song, that while not expressly forbidden, it really was. Cruella hated it, and Carlos actually liked it, despite like that it was one of the few things that wasn’t him that could really make Cruella mad. If he were to ever meet Roger he was going to thank him for this tiny bit of entertainment that he got from singing the song. 

He heard her before he saw her, the click clack of her heals. His breath hitched, but he didn’t stop humming. In fact, if you listened close enough you could hear him actually singing the words. But the words weren’t even needed, the tune was enough to set her off. And the click clack was faster. He laughed despite himself, it was moments like that, where he laughed in this kind of situation that the resemblance to his mother was a bit more than physical. Though if he knew his mother in her youth, the resemblance would be more than physical as well. But that was a pleasure only Anita had. 

She stalked up to him and didn’t even speak before slapping him across the face, that shut him up. His eyes were trained to the ground He knew when she was at her limits, he knew when obedience was his only option. He was walking that very fine line at the moment. “What were you humming?” she asked, and before Carlos could answer she added on, “You have such a pretty voice, Carlos, but you waste it singing trash like that.”

He looked up, she had just complimented him. A back handed compliment but he was so starved for affection, for compliments from her. Because while she only loved her furs, she was his mother and he wanted nothing more than to have that affection, so he did what he did to hopefully get it. “Really?” he asked.

She laughed, well cackled, “Of course not, pets should be seen not heard, and preferably not seen either.” He visibly deflated, shrunk down into himself, and his eyes found their way back down to the half clean floor. He winced prepping himself for the slap that came, “You haven’t finished the floors, because of your infernal singing. How do you plan on fixing that, and doing the rest of your chores by the time I leave later?”

He remained focused on the ground, “What time are you leaving?” he needed a time frame. 

“Two hours, and your whole list must be done by then.” 

He looked up at her in shock, “Two hours!” he practically shouted, which had him receive a hit hard enough to knock him down. He got back up. His list was long, he could barely get it done in a days time— when he didn’t have school.

She grabbed his arm, hard enough to bruise, and began wrangling him up the stairs of Hell Hall, she through him into the fur closet, where his shoe, and subsequently foot got caught in one of the bear traps, and he had to hid his pain for now. “Yes two hours, not start with mummy’s furs, you know how much I love them.”

The door shut, and he finally let himself grunt in pain. He was bleeding, he knew that, his shoe was ruined he knew that as well. He bent down, and forced the trap open, took his foot out, and reset it. He then limped around fluffing her furs, cleaning them, even though he did this every day, and he thought that using to much of the oils would actually ruin them. But when it came to the furs, he was not about to say no to Cruella on that. He didn’t say no to most things, but the furs were her one true love, doing anything that wasn’t what she said about them was the only option. 

By the time he was finished he knew he had taken too long, but trying to keep the pain in his foot at bay, while doing the work, it wasn’t easy. He left the closet, and made his way to finish the floors what he had been doing before things went downhill so very fast. He was limping, but that was hardly his concern, his concern was with the blood that was on the floor from his foot. Now it should have been his safety. But he didn’t have the time. 

The click clack of Cruella’s heals echoed, and he knew she was coming. She was smoking now, he could smell it. It was stronger than normal. The house always smelled of cigarette smoke. She walked up to him, blew the smoke in his face, and laughed. He sighed, “You only just now finished with my furs?” she asked. and Carlos knew better than to interrupt. “Such a disappointment, but you wont be if you finish your work.” She snapped her fingers, and he held out his arm, she put out her cigarette on it. Then she looked at the mark, that was their among many others, as if she was looking at a piece of her work. It made him shudder. She dropped his arm and was on her way.

He knew that he wanted to finish. He knew that he couldn’t. But he didn’t want to disappoint, going fast however would do nothing. Cruella wanted perfection, and going fast never lead to perfection. He learned that the hard way. But he certainly could try. He really wanted to not be a disappointment.

He was able to finish the floors, but that was it. Hell Hall was huge, after all. She looked at him with that same look of disgust she got whenever he didn’t behave optimally, which with her it was almost always the look she gave him, unless she needed to fool someone. Carlos fell for those moments, no one could fault Cruella for not being brilliant, she may be crazy, but she was smart. 

She came up, already disappointed, and let him know it. He was her personal ashtray ash she packed, because apparently she hadn’t done that in the two previous hours. So as he packed, he gained new burns, and other bruises, and even a few scrapes. He was done, and she was on her way. And he practically fell over once her car was out of sight. His foot hurt, and he pulled his shoe off, which was a terrible, terrible idea. He winced at even just ghosting his fingers over skin that wasn’t damaged. There was no way he could even try to climb to his treehouse where he had a first aid kit. He sighed, he’d suffer until someone could come. He had chores to do, Cruella made the list even longer with things he had never done before, and had never even thought about doing.

Day turned to night, and he couldn’t sleep, he had chores that would be able to get done within the time period she gave him. She’d be gone for one day, and return the next morning. He had two nights, and one full day without her. It wasn’t a blessing, though if anyone asked, which they wouldn’t because he wouldn’t be leaving Hell Hall because of his chores, but if anyone asked he would say that yes it was a blessing. Cruella’s treatment of him was known across the island, and most agreed he had it worse, if Mal even thought his mother was bad, then his mother was truly truly bad. 

He had made his way to the roof. The moon was full, and he was fixing wholes, and also cleaning the gutters. His foot was terribly swollen and oozing puss, and it wasn’t looking so good. It had stopped bleeding though. He was incredibly tired. He figured it was just a mix of it being late, and the fact that he was almost always in a state of perpetual tiredness. But this tired was different, he felt a bit sick as well. He put it off. He could only focus on his chores, all other things left his mind for the time being as he became hyper focused on the tasks at hand. He had to finish them before Cruella got back. 

He woke up on the ground. He wasn’t sure how that happened. He was outside though. His cat was curled up next to him, which only meant he had slept out here for some amount of time that he didn’t know. which meant he had lost time to dp his chores. His foot ached and he couldn’t even move it. But he was already outside, and he was assuming the chores on the roof were done. So he decided to take a reprieve and try and mend his foot, at least a little. 

He hobbled over to his treehouse, his cat following after him, mewling like the thing was worried. He had to scramble up the ladder, and almost didn’t make it. he was out of breath, which wasn’t normal for him, when he got to the top. He was in more pain than when he started, but he couldn’t think to long on that. He began rummaging around for his little first aid kit. He did what he could with the bandages. Put on his spare pair of shoes, and he was done. He had chores after all. 

When inside, he checked the time. It was noon. He slept longer than he expected, and he still had so much to do. He started with washing the windows, inside, he would save outside for later. Perhaps, he thought if the inside was clean she would not be so disappointed, after all that was the part she saw the most. He would later find out he was wrong. 

He couldn’t finish all the chores on the inside, before dark, and that was only when he realized he needed to clean the sides of the house, and wash the windows still. He should have planned it better, but his mind was not in a planning mode right now. It was in chores mode, and pleasing his mother mode. He got no sleep that night, and what was worse, was that Cruella came home early in the morning. It was still dark, the head lights of her car, lighting up the driveway. The cast an eerie glow inside, and Carlos knew he was doomed. He hadn’t made her breakfast. 

She swept in coat flowing behind her, “Mummy is home,” she announced, ignoring Carlos for the time being. She was going to visit her furs, he could at least get her something simple for breakfast in that time period. He had barely even started when he heard her scream. 

He flinched he knew that was not good. And he wondered what could have happened. He had personally made sure her furs were fine. There was nothing wrong with them. His breathing picked up, as she stomped down the stairs, slamming doors when she felt like it. She stopped front of him, and hit him, his arm landed on the hot stove burning him, all because he tried to catch himself. He should have taken the bump to the head. 

He didn’t look up at her, “Tell me why their is blood near my furs.” 

Carlos felt the blood drain from his face. His foot, the bear trap. He didn’t think she would notice. But of course she did. She was anal about the cleanliness of the house, but she was something else when it came to that fur closet. He swallowed, and she opens a cabinet grabbed a bottle of bleach, because of course she had that, and grabbed a brush, and then she grabbed Carlos’ arm. She dragged him up the stairs, and he had to hide his winces more than usual, his foot was still bothering him, his arm was now burnt and she wasn’t helping that. It was a bad situation all together. 

She threw him on the ground, and then threw the bleach too, as well as the brush. Both hitting him. And he knew she wanted him to scrub the floors. “Don’t bleach my loves, just the floor, you brat.” She said, and Carlos sighed. “I can’t believe you would make mummy do this on mother’s day— I didn’t even get a welcome home meal.”

He froze. It was mother’s day. It was mother’s day and he forgot. He had completely forgotten. And he knew whatever she had planned would be all his fault because he forgot it was mother’s day. He not only disappointed her in not cleaning the house like she wanted, but he also forgot one of the most important holidays, one of the few days where she actually showed some affection to him, even if it was just petting his hair, and calling him a good boy. He had screwed up, and there was no coming back from this. 

“Why have you stopped working?” she asked, and then it dawned on her. She got that manic smile, and Carlos began to really fear, to truly fear. He felt it in his bones. “You forgot.” It was a statement, when she repeated it, “You forgot!” that he was certain the whole isle could hear it. 

He was also certain the whole island could hear his screams, she finished, and he had lost track of alot of things. But his pleas had stayed the same, “I swear, I will never forget mother’s day again.” 

She pet him, her fingers tangling in his bloody hair, “See to it that you don’t, pet, mummy wont be so nice next time.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my little headcanon of what happened on that Mother's Day Carlos forgot. Its a bit crap. I wrote it for my Carlos RP blog, so if you want to see more head canons and stuff you can find me at devillians.tumblr.com


End file.
